Whistles blew, and running footsteps approached.
In seconds, her captor was no longer holding her.
Chaisley’s arms ached from the intense grip he’d had on her.
“What’s happening?” she whispered toward Mel.
“The French police are arresting them.”
“Vous allez bien, mesdemoiselles?”
“Merci. A little bruised, but I think we are fine.” Melanie had ahold of her arm. “Let’s get back.”
“Wait. Who were they?”
“Disgusting Nazis,” one of the policemen explained. “They do not belong in our fine city.”
As the two of them walked back to their flat, Chaisley couldn’t stop the shaking that took over. “You don’t think those Nazi spies told their superiors yet, do you?”
“No. You should have seen them. Too eager and wanting to impress. No. Their goal was to parade us into Germany and gain applause. I’m sure of it. We’re almost there.” Mel’s arm around her shoulder was the only thing holding her upright, and the confidence in her words bolstered Chaisley.
“I’m fine. It just shook me up, that’s all.” She straightened. As long as her secret work was safe.
“Don’t lie to me. It scared at least ten years off my life.”
“What on earth were those Nazis doing here?”
“Spying on us, that’s what. They obviously have a presence here, even though most people probably don’t know that. I think we need to tell Dr. G that he needs to be on his guard.”
Friday, September 2, 1938
Melanie took a deep breath, the morning’s conversation running through her mind.
“You ladies need some fresh air. How about a picnic?” Rick’s words had still held tension, even through his forced smile.
“No.” She’d snapped. “Can’t the world see what’s going on? I’m not going to risk Chaisley’s life for a stupid picnic.”
Not only had she practically yelled the words across the room, but she’d said them with such venom that no one said a word for several minutes.
“First, we’re going to have a long overdue chat.” Chaisley moved over and sat closer. “Second, we’re going to go on a stupid picnic. Fresh air and a bit of normalcy will be good for all of us.”
She’d balked. But Chais won. And she’d been correct. They’d spent two hours hashing out their feelings about all that happened, all they’d seen, and the toll it was taking on them emotionally. It had been cleansing.
Mel came to the conclusion that bottling it all up didn’t make her stronger, it didn’t help her ignore it better. It made her hurt worse.
A smile stretched across her face now. Their little trio had gone through a lot together the past months. They’d come to trust one another in a way she’d never trusted anyone else.
Lives were on the line. That changed everything.
They decided to enjoy some time at a café instead of a picnic and made new promises to each other and new routines. The weight of their underground work and what they faced had bogged them all down until melancholy moods prevailed. Starting each day with prayer was a wonderful thing, but when the requests were all so dire, it was hard to be positive.
Chaisley suggested they pray together as a team and then sing some uplifting hymns of praise. It had lifted all of their spirits.
Out in the fresh air, Melanie could think straight again. “I can’t think of anything that smells better than freshly baked bread. Unless it’s a freshly baked croissant.” She bit into the aforementioned bakery item, flakes falling to her plate. She closed her eyes, savoring the layers of butter and pastry.
“I agree with you.” Chaisley sighed, dabbing her lips with herlinen napkin. “England has many wonderful things about it. But no one does pastries like the French.”
“Or coffee.” Rick took a long sip from his mug.
